


I knew your skin until I didn't

by AgingPhangirl (Madophelia)



Series: Trope-a-Dope [10]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Body Worship, Fluff, Freckles, M/M, Sex but not smut, just generally be being affected by pictures of their freckles honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 22:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11000424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madophelia/pseuds/AgingPhangirl
Summary: Everything is different and yet everything is the same.Some freckle-worship because our boys are back from America and covered in them.





	I knew your skin until I didn't

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this series should be called 'jane is emotionally compromised by dnp content so feels the need to write fic about it' but it's not exactly snappy is it?
> 
> The boys have freckles. For some reason this is entirely too cute to me so... this happened. Enjoy.
> 
> (I should be writing for my June project but here I am once again affected by a damn selfie. Why won’t they let me be?)
> 
> Come shout at me on [Tumblr](http://agingphangirl.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](http://twitter.com/agingfangirl) and tell me to stop procrastinating.

They way Dan’s hands are skimming over him relentlessly, Phil knows something is different, he just can’t place what. Maybe it is just being home, finally. Except that he can’t count on familiarity to explain the change in behaviour, because they’ve barely had the chance to get used to the new bed anyway.

But there is something insistent still, in the way Dan straddles him and is peering intently. His eyes are wide and unblinking, tracking all over Phil as if he is brand new. 

“What is it?” He says between kisses, using his extensive experience of Dan, if not yet the bed, to inform his suspicion that something is off.

He almost doesn’t want to know. Because there is a hand gripping hard onto his hip and one in his hair and yes, it is familiar and it is just Dan, they are the same practised hands that have done the same time and time again and yet… it is new.

Maybe asking will break the spell. But he’s already done it now. 

“I don’t know,” Dan murmurs into the space between kisses, “You’re different.” 

And he’s letting fingertips ghost down Phil’s neck, tracing soft meandering circles over Phil’s bare skin and suddenly Phil understands.

“It’s the freckles,” he chuckles, “They’re what’s new.”

Dan’s fingers halt only for a fraction of a second, but Phil still shudders wonderfully when they start back up again. 

“It’s not a fetish or something,” Dan assures him, dipping his head to press feathersoft kisses against them, feeling free to do so now it’s been revealed what his particular obsession is this evening. “Just a novelty.” 

“I understand,” Phil says, raising his own hand to cup Dan’s cheek and swipe a rough thumb over the cluster of speckles dusting his cheekbone. 

“They’ll fade,” Dan says, “soon.” 

“Better make the most of it then,” Phil hums, leaning forward to bring his mouth to trace the path his thumb has tracked. 

Dan lays him out, cataloguing all the places Phil is scattered with the light marks. He runs his fingers and lips over countless of them. Because he isn’t actually counting, he assures Phil, that would be absurd. But Phil swears he can hear the melodic sound of ascending numbers under his breath. 

They take their time, marking dot-to-dot lines between new patterns of skin to find shapes and symbols there were never there before. Visible only to them, touched and uncovered by only each other. Like archeologists unveiling hidden meaning in random designs. 

Dan picks up a pen at one point and immortalises his favourites, black lines a harsh contrast against what is still a pale array of stippled skin. They will last, at least until the shower washes it clean later. 

When he’s finished, if not yet fully satisfied, he lies back and lets Phil do the same to him.

Phil is more precise, more exacting in the detail. With fewer to work with he starts first on Dan’s cheekbone. Finding a star and a smile and a swirl. He swears there’s a dog on Dan’s shoulder, but Dan can’t twist his body far enough to see the evidentiary biro mark, but he laughs into Phil’s mouth anyways and tells him he’s sure it’s there.

It’s fun and they’re laughing, until they’re panting and gasping. It’s slow and exploratory, reminding them both of those fresh first few times together so long ago. Phil is gentle in the way he was back when he needed to be careful, and Dan is pushy and greedy, demanding and fearful of letting go in a way he’ll swear he never was. 

It culminates in a shuddering sigh and something familiar. Mind-numbingly good in the ways only someone who knows your body second only to their own can bring. It’s easy and practised as lovers are with each other after so much time, but it feels new, shiney, unexpected. 

They collapse and curl up together, slotting into well-known patches of skin littered with lesser known patterns of discovered shapes.

Everything is different, and yet everything is the same.


End file.
